Let’s talk masturbation.

When I saw this new washing machine I thought of a scene in my last WIP, ( MY PREROGATIVE, my Sept 08 release from Berkley,) when the heroine slaps a rubber cock with a suction cup bottom on a chair and rides the chair. I was thinking, hmm, she’d like this washing machine. *Hee hee*

Anyway, this made me think of how often I use masturbation in stories.

Personally, I think if a person doesn’t masturbate, they’re probably no good in bed. My belief is how can you find pleasure if you don’t know what pleases you? And the best way to find out is to well, experiment, with others and with yourself. But come one, isn’t self love a sort of naughty exciting thing?

Especially if you do it with a partner I know, self love with a partner? Then why do it yourself? Because it’s HOT. And if you doubt me, ask your man to stroke himself for you. Men aren’t shy, he’d do it for sure.

Women are shy though. I think it’s ingrained in us at birth to feel shy/ashamed/vulnerable when exposing ourselves. But honestly, a woman touching herself in front of her lover will give her more power over him than she can imagine.
Check this scene out form THE CRIB in the PURE SEX anthology.

“Strip.”
We’d just entered my motel room and I’d gone straight to the bedside table to flick on the lamp, but froze at his command. My heart kicked in my chest and my nipples hardened to the point of pain.
I turned on my heel and watched Devon shrug out of his leather jacket before he dropped into the upright chair just inside the door. If any other man had spoken to me in that tone, I’d kick his ass. But the flicker of tenderness lurking below the heat in Devon’s intense gaze made his attitude exciting, not demeaning.
Reaching up, I played with the top button on my blouse. Keeping my eyes on him I moved from one the next, slipping them through the holes, without moving closer to him or saying a word. When my blouse hung open I slipped one hand under the cloth and cupped a breast. Scraping my fingertip across the nipple it stiffened even more, aching for a firmer touch.
“Take it off. The bra too.” Devon’s voice was husky with arousal, his own hand drifting over his groin to make an adjustment. “I want to see you touch yourself.”
With slow sure movements I slipped the blouse from my shoulders, and removed the black push up bra I’d been wearing. Biting my lip, I closed my eyes and held the weight of a breast in each hand, squeezing lightly while I pinched my nipples between finger and thumb.
Arrows of pleasure shot from nipple to groin and a sigh of longing spilled from my lips. It felt good, but I wanted him.
I cracked my eyes open and watched him watch me as I reached back and undid the clasp on my skirt. With a little shimmy of my hips the skirt dropped to the ground and I stood in front on him naked, but for my thong and my shoes.
Unwilling to let him know just how much I wanted him to touch me, I sat on the edge of the bed across from him and spread my legs crudely.
I sucked a finger into my mouth for a brief second before trailing it down the center of my chest, across my belly and beneath the elastic edge of my panties. Devon’s lips parted and his tongue darted out as he watched the movement beneath the black lace.
“How does it feel?” he asked.
“So good,” I whispered, shocking myself by answering him, egging him on. “Slick and wet. Ready to be filled.”
A low groan rumbled out of him and he made quick work of the buckle of his chaps, as well as his jeans. In seconds he had both pushed low on his hips and his cock bobbed out in the open, hard, thick and proud. Saliva pooled in my mouth as his fingers stroked it lightly up and down.
“Take off your panties.”
I hesitated for a second, and his eyes met mine. “Please.”
Some men might think saying please to a woman made them less, but Devon was confident and assured, and the word flowing from his lips only made me want to do whatever he asked. With one quick move I was rid of the thin lace.
“Get back on the bed,” he instructed. “Sit against the wall, spread your legs. I want to be able to see everything.”
Excitement skittered through me as I did what he asked. My brain had shut off and I was reduced to a mass of quivering desire, seeking only pleasure and praise.
I propped a pillow up against the headboard and leaned back. Drawing my knees up I kept them spread wide. Devon’s cheeks flushed and the hunger on his face was clear to see. I felt crude and dirty, and desired and wanted.
“Show me how you please yourself,” he rasped. “Make yourself come for me.”
One hand immediately dipped between my legs, straight for the hard bud of flesh that peeped out from its protective hood. My other hand cupped a breast and played with the nipple. Tension coiled low in my belly and my hips tilted forward a bit, seeking firmer pressure.
Devon’s hand circled his rigid shaft completely and he stroked himself, the head of his penis turning a deeper purple and starting to shine deliciously. A low moan eased from my throat and I rubbed my button harder, the knot in my belly tightening fiercely.
“That’s it, Baby. I can see your pussy working.”
Keeping the steady pressure on my clit with one hand, my other traveled across my belly to join it between my legs. I let my knees fall outward and I was completely open as my hips thrust up to welcome a stiff finger inside me.
“Ohh,” another helpless moan escaped from me. “I’m close. So close, Devon.”
“I know, Babe. I can see how wet you are. I can smell you from there. You smell so good.”
Those earthly words, uttered in his deep husky voice pushed me over the edge. I dug my heels into the bed and thrust my hips forward. One finger thrusting inside while the other frigged my clit. My eyes slid shut on the vision of his fist pumping faster as the knot in my belly expanded and a long low cry eased from my lips.
When my heart rate slowed and the pounding in my ears subsided I opened my eyes to see Devon still seated in the chair. He wasn’t stroking himself anymore. Instead, his hands were resting on leather clad thighs, and his eyes were burning with a raw male hunger that set my blood to near boiling again.
“Come here.”

For more…pick up the PURE SEX anthology. It’s available in Print and as an eBook. :puh: